


The Silent Cadence

by Orifiel



Series: Prosody [4]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Drama, Family, Gen, Mass Effect Kink Meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-26
Updated: 2013-10-26
Packaged: 2017-12-30 13:33:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1019228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orifiel/pseuds/Orifiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“When ears can’t grant the wanted noise, another method lends a choice. My eyes are clear, my hand is poised… to feel the cadence of his voice.” After Shepard takes control of the Reapers, the galaxy hails his sacrifice and honors his family. But for the sister who was left behind, no degree of fame compares to the message he transmits to his loved ones. If only she could hear it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Silent Cadence

_When ears can't grant the wanted noise,_

_Another method lends a choice._

_My eyes are clear, my hand is poised…_

_To feel the cadence of his voice._

x-x-x-x-x

Evelyn stifled a yawn as the social hour drew on, the continuous rotation of mingling bodies leaving her tired and more than a little bored. Her full wine glass acted as an inconvenient prop in her palm, along with the glittery silver clutch purse tucked under her arm. When no one approached her for a while, she wandered over to a vacant corner, masking the discomfort of her high heels by plastering a practiced smile on her face. Once an acceptable distance stretched out between her and the masses, she stood with her back to one wall and tried not to fidget in her ivory cocktail dress as she swept a jaded gaze around the grand ballroom.

Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, bathing the vast space in warm radiance. She watched the sea of Alliance dress blues, black tuxedos, and shimmering evening gowns in constant motion across the floor. Glass centerpieces held cerulean candles on tables surrounding the center stage, which bore the Alliance flag on one side. A pianist played a series of compositions at the far end of the room, the melodies of which she couldn't enjoy.

Hannah Shepard stood next to the stage with Steven Hackett, appearing comfortable under the spotlight as she addressed one question after another from the crowd of reporters around them. Evelyn stiffened when her mother paused long enough to spot her in the corner and send her a meaningful look. _Put that wine glass down and keep mingling,_ it said. And just like that, Hannah turned back to resume her interview.

Evelyn's smile wavered at the demand. _Seriously, Mom. Until they invent visual translators to help me out, socializing at these formal events will be painful and awkward. Better for me to just stand on the sidelines._

She tightened her grip on the stem of her glass and tilted her chin like a petulant child, feeling defiant even at the age of twenty-five. The movement brought her line of sight to the far wall, where a large hologram depicted the image of tonight's honored subject. Now her smile did fade, and she ignored the passersby greeting her as she peered at Commander John Shepard's official Alliance picture.

Her pride in his service to the entire galaxy went hand in hand with her anger in his choice to take on that sacrifice. Almost exactly a year later, when many metropolises, colonies, and space stations had been rebuilt, she still sometimes resented everyone who had looked to him as their savior. One man shouldn't have had to bear that burden. A hero he became, but a dead one at that. He left behind not only his mother and sister, but also a fiancée and a son he never had the chance to meet.

Evelyn scanned the area for Ashley Williams's tall, slim figure. When she failed to locate her, she presumed the tired mother had chosen to skip the annual Alliance Military Ball to stay home with John Jr. for the remainder of her shore leave. Evelyn envied the decision, wishing she could spend the evening at Ashley's summer home and visit her infant nephew. Her brown eyes flickered back to John's image.

_Miss you, big bro. You're the only reason I'm putting up with being here._

A hovering camera suddenly intruded on her field of vision.

_…Well, you and the troublesome press._

She stretched her mouth into another forced smile and primped up her long brunette curls when a Middle Eastern woman strode up next to the camera.

"Khalisah Bint Sinan al-Jilani, Westerlund News," the reporter declared in an automatic self-introduction. "Evelyn Shepard?"

Evelyn nodded, studying the other woman's lips. The name rang a bell, but not a good one. She could have sworn John had mentioned this particular reporter before. With disdain.

"If I could have just a few minutes of your time…" Khalisah continued speaking, but turned her head in different directions as she did, checking her camera and glancing down at her datapad.

By the time her lips stopped moving and she lifted her expectant gaze to watch Evelyn, the latter had frozen in bewilderment. After several beats of silence, Khalisah frowned and narrowed her eyes. Clear annoyance radiated from her haughty expression as Evelyn stared back at her.

"Could you answer my questions, please, Ms. Shepard?" Khalisah asked, raising an eyebrow. "Can you talk?"

Irritation rose along with astonishment as Evelyn's jaw clenched. Considering the fact that the Shepard family had graced the headlines of most intact news outlets for the better part of a year, Khalisah's apparent ignorance was almost laughable. Granted, Evelyn tended to duck under the radar when interview requests came flooding in, but enough background information on John, Hannah, and herself had been published to spread word of her condition. Did this al-Jilani lady really have no clue?

Just when both women took to glaring at each other, a burly figure garbed in crisp Alliance dress blues popped up behind Khalisah.

"Hey, al-Jila-whatever-your-name-is. Back off Ev here, will you? Take your questions to Admiral Shepard and let this girl breathe," James Vega ordered, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that made his biceps bulge through his sleeves.

Khalisah spun around to face the hulking man towering over her. She argued with him for a few seconds, but eventually huffed and stalked away with her camera in tow when he refused to budge. James shook his head and stepped closer to Evelyn as she sent him a grateful grin.

"You okay?" he inquired.

She nodded, relieved. _I'm pretty sure that was the bitch who ate John's fist a couple of times._

One corner of his mouth quirked as he seemed to read her thoughts. "Yeah, she wasn't a popular one with the commander, that's for sure."

Evelyn shifted her eyes to the hologram again, recalling her brother's fame and following during his intergalactic dealings. Before the Reapers. Her lashes lowered at the scabbing memories, and she lifted the glass to take an actual sip of white wine in an effort to stave off the gloom. She grimaced at the dry taste, but forced herself to gulp it down.

James peered at her, his features softening. "I can only imagine what it's like for you to come to this function. I'm having a tough time, and I was just part of his crew."

She shrugged, trying for a stoic stance.

"You know, you don't have to put up that tough front with me, _hermosa_ ," he remarked. At her perturbed expression, he chuckled. "Yeah, don't mind me too much. Shepard always said he'd gut me if I ever tried anything with his little sister."

Evelyn scoffed at that, though a rose flush crept to her cheeks.

"If only he were still here, huh?" James surveyed the ballroom, but kept his face pointed toward her so she could see his lips. "I wasn't there when the Crucible activated, but when that blue light shot out… I really don't think he's gone. Not for good."

She furrowed her brow at his musings, the remnants of her faith and optimism long snuffed out. _Come off it, Vega. It's been a year. There was no trace of John anywhere._

Bitterness seeped into her chest at the false hope James seemed to cling onto. She had dismissed the notion of her brother's survival a long time ago, and it irked her that people still expected him to come waltzing right back sometime down the road. John had stopped an entire hostile race of sentient machines from annihilating their existence. No one just came back from a mission like that.

James rubbed his forehead and sighed when he noticed her agitation. "Well, anyway… I hear you've settled down here in Vancouver. Done with the starship life for good?"

Evelyn hid a wry smirk at the clumsy change of subject, but inclined her head in affirmation. She felt useful here on Earth, nothing like her helpless hand-wringing as she and several other Alliance dependents on a reserve carrier watched vid footage of the Reapers tearing apart their homeworld. Her involvement in the rebuilding effort had gained her even more recognition in the limelight, but she brushed off the accolades and maintained her focus on her work. Her brother had given everything to save this world. She simply wanted to do her part to make sure it was worth even a fraction of the price he'd paid.

James glanced over his shoulder, as if someone had called for him. "Hey, I've gotta go. I'll talk to you later, _hermosa_. Though, if I don't see you after this, tell Ash hi for me."

She waved as he retreated through the crowds, the air around her losing its warmth.

As the social hour winded down, guests migrated over to their reserved seats at the tables. Evelyn hung back, waiting out the moving tide to evade any further attempts at small talk. She predicted another few hours of dinner, eye-glazing speeches, and the presentation of even more medals and certificates to honor John's memory. The slight vibration that traveled over the floor told her the sound system had come on. She glimpsed her mother hovering over their assigned table in front of the stage, but started when Hannah excused herself from the other officers and marched straight toward her.

Evelyn recognized that stern frown, and she exhaled in vexation when Hannah gestured to the balcony doors to indicate she wanted a word. She followed her mother across the room and onto the marble balcony overlooking a clear expanse of water. A breeze too cold for summer dusk blew over her as she came to a halt in front of Hannah, bracing herself for the inevitable scolding.

"Honey, I need you to cooperate with me here," her mother began, the lines on her weary face deeper than usual. "I know you hate these things, but whether you like it or not, you're in the public eye now. Just try to at least look like you're enjoying yourself."

Evelyn scowled and placed her free hand on her hip. _Why would I enjoy rubbing elbows at this sickeningly extravagant event that's all about reminding me my brother is dead?_

Hannah took the wine glass and clutch purse away from her, setting them on a nearby bistro table. "And stop using these as an excuse to avoid conversations. Many people here are fluent in sign language."

Evelyn's hands flew into motion at once. "I don't know why the Alliance insists on hosting another function in John's name when they've already spent the past year shoving us in front of cameras to get our thoughts on being 'the family of the galaxy's hero.' I just want a day to myself to mourn him in peace." Angry tears stung the corners of her eyes as she punctuated each sentence with loud claps in her signing.

"I know. But this is the way things are. People want to show their gratitude, and John isn't here to receive it. So we must do so in his place," Hannah told her.

"Ash has to deal with this shit, too," Evelyn signed, now on a full-on rant. "'What is it like being the mother of Commander Shepard's only child? Do you feel any pressure raising his legacy by yourself?' What kind of dumbass asks that? She's an Alliance officer who was there on the _Normandy_ , for God's sake."

Hannah lifted a placating palm. "I understand your rage, but try to see it as others do. John did something remarkable for humanity, for the alien species, for _everyone_. They reach out and cling to his living kin because through us, they can hold onto his essence."

Evelyn read her lips and then glowered in the distance. Logically, she could see her mother's point, but from a personal perspective, she found the widespread attention annoying and disrespectful. Everyone acted as if they'd forgotten that she, her mother, and Ashley were all still humans grieving the loss of a loved one. And formal affairs commemorating John—like this military ball—only served to invite further public fixation on their lives.

Hannah's expression changed after a few minutes, exuding sorrow and something else Evelyn couldn't identify. She booted up her omni-tool and transmitted a file to her daughter before reaching into her pocket and producing a compact datapad. With curiosity, Evelyn opened her own omni-tool interface and pulled up an untitled sound file.

"I was going to wait until you had the procedure done for your cochlear implant, but I think you should have this now." Hannah nodded to the file on the holographic screen above Evelyn's wrist. "I'm not sure whether he sent this before the final battle… or after. There is no timestamp, nothing in the contents to indicate at what point in time he had recorded it. But it's a message to us, to his family."

The air left Evelyn's lungs as she brought up an unsteady hand to sign, "From John?"

"Yes."

Evelyn gazed down at the audio program on her interface, swallowing as her throat constricted. James's earlier words about John's possible survival rushed back to the forefront of her mind. Unlikely, unfeasible… but then again, she had to admit that the nature of the Crucible had been shrouded in mystery. Could there have been a way John had been spared? If so, where was he now? She pushed back a wave of emotion when, for the first time in a long time, hope dared to flare up inside her.

Hannah held out the datapad. "I typed up the message for you."

Evelyn shook her head. She kept her sight locked on the play button as her mother set the datapad on the table next to her glass and purse. After placing a brief hand on her daughter's shoulder, Hannah left to allow her a moment of privacy. Evelyn eyed the datapad before turning away, deeming it unnecessary for now.

She took a seat on a stone bench by the balcony railing and, after hesitating a second more, hit the playback. The quiet continued, hushed and unbroken. Her ears picked up no noise, as was the case with her normal daily life.

And yet, she heard him.

With the pads of her fingers on the physical device of her omni-tool, she listened. She didn't know what he said, but a feeling of calmness and nostalgia descended over her all the same. The reverberation of his deep timber spoke to her through her fingertips, and she identified the beat as his unique vocal rhythm, that silent cadence she knew so well.

She replayed the message over and over, remaining in her seat even when the program commenced inside. She listened to her brother, just like she had ever since their childhood, using every other sense to make up for her lack of auditory function. Somehow, even without reading the script on the datapad, she understood the message. He was still here; maybe not as he was before, but he wasn't gone. It was as James had said.

Evelyn listened one more time, catching the intonation of John's words, the resonating tempo of his speech, and she heard him.

Even afflicted with deafness, she was still the one person who heard him best.


End file.
